“I’ve only spoken to some of them. The Phoenix won’t come. They have their hands full with Ananizarte’s troops destroying their outposts and occupying the region. I had a talk with the NAVY leaders. Basically, they can help us just for fun, but in their own time zone. It’s going to be a late-night for them during the first checkpoints, so don’t expect them to come. The Hird refused outright; they don’t want to alienate the Pandas. They did promise financial aid. My man’s meeting them at the Bazaar today. That’s all for now.”
“I’ve also been contacting people,” Mook said, nodding. “Nobody wants Pandorum to get stronger. They clearly decided to push us out of Dorsa. Their pets are supposed to take our place.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They’re in full deploy mode. Look at the reports: astral naves are offloading in the Phiniars non-stop, bringing in their stuff. I’ve made some inquiries: all this commotion has a reason. Pandorum’s allies are moving here en masse. They left the Netherworlds, Infernis, and Baalorg behind. Someone must have kicked them out. This is the reason for this war — the Pandas found a new home for their buddies.”
Olaf and Komtur exchanged worried looks. Madman, the leader of the Heroes, laughed softly.
“Sorry, Mook, but it sounds insane. Who could have kicked Pandorum’s allies out of the Netherworlds?”
“Weird things are going on there. The Pandas were using others to farm souls, after all. I think it’s gone too far, and the procedural generator retaliated. New NPCs started pushing back, forcing them to run with their tail between their legs.”
“NPCs?”
“Hell if I know. This is third-hand information; nobody’s willing to say much,” Mook replied, frowning. “Yeah, NPCs or an NPC, I’m not sure. They’re called the Nomads. I have no proof; I’m just telling you what I was told. A Pioneer expedition set out to investigate that.”
“All right, this isn’t important. We need to decide how to save our alliance...or ourselves,” Crow, the leader of the Varangians, spoke up. His clan owned lands to the north of Dorsa and the islands in the Windy Seas and, so far, had been spared any attacks, same as the Brethren who lived to the east. The Pandas had landed to the south, stirring up trouble from the borders of the Wild Field.
“I take it you aren’t going to order a mass evacuation and the transport of assets?” Crow continued.
“It might shatter morale,” Olaf replied warily. “It’s possible that they’ll fight fiercer if they have something to lose. The most valuable stuff should be taken away, of course, but nobody must know of that.”
“So nobody’s going to throw down arms!” Crow said, nodding. “That’s good to know, guys. I like that we’re in a fighting mood. Have you thought about our odds? I think it’s a hundred to one, honestly.”
“True, the Pandas have the advantage in quality and quantity,” Evil Mook agreed. “I have no idea what we could do against them in direct conflict. We could try making precise attacks, wearing them out, severing communications, striking their rear outposts, hunting their cargo ships and caravans. Actually, we’ve already started doing that.”
“They’ll still force a decisive battle on us. After the castles and key outposts run out of invincibility, we’ll have to fight,” Komtur said. “But I wouldn’t hold a funeral for us yet. We can take on the Pandas’ allies.”
“And Pandorum is past its prime, too!” Olaf joined in. “They’ve recently lost two juggernauts and almost lost their castle. They can be fought and defeated! If we gather all possible allies and present a united front, we have a chance.”
“I’ve seen the juggernaut kill list,” Mook said and nodded. “It’s really strange. One of your newbies with some kind of superweapon played a hand, right? I’d like to know more about that. Can we use him against them? As for allies, Olaf, I agree, but this is a pipe dream. You know that.”
He straightened his back and finished, his tone harsh.
“Since the beginning of Sphere, nobody has managed to unite the Russian alliances against a single enemy.”
Chapter 5
THE BAZAAR WAS as restless as ever. Day and night, no matter the time zone, it was full of bustling crowds of players and NPCs, loudly chattering. Caravans of goods made their way across the narrow streets to the majestic spires of towers, and hundreds of astral ships sailed the skies above them, lining up to moor.
As I left the portal circle, I pulled my hood up. The hunt for my head started by the Pandas was still going strong; I had to be on my guard in public places. I was slowly turning paranoid, imagining threats behind every corner, and as soon as a band of suicide attackers on birdies appeared in sight, I immediately jumped to the Shadow Plane. They looked like vultures scanning the area for prey. Still, better safe than sorry. Rumor had it that some artifacts and archetypes allowed one to see the items worn by players and identify their value. Lately, my gear had significantly improved — few players could boast two legendaries at once. It didn’t even matter that they were personal, bound to me — they might kill me just for kicks.
In the Shadow Plane, the Bazaar looked almost the same — a never-ending torrent of people and blurry heaps of buildings resembling giant clouds. Curiously, the Forged guards patrolling the streets and guarding the exits radiated auras of light, and the eyes of their dromont leaders seemed to pierce even the Shadow. In any case, I failed to sneak into the trade tower unnoticed. The mechanical NPCs from the Forgeworlds were truly interesting; I had read a lot about them but never managed to get to know them better.
The
